6. Under Pressure
CHAPTER SIX
under pressure
ABI
EMERALD BAY, WASHINGTON
PRESENT DAY
“Anomie is a kind of vanishing of morals and values that were previously common in society. Durkheim posits that it occurs during massive upheavals— so, we’re talking things like social structures, economic collapses, and big shifts in political ideology.”
“Like the recession?”
“Precisely!” I nod. “So, when you guys go to write your papers, one of the things that might help is focusing on a particular time period and analyzing how parts of society shifted or broke down. Remember, anomie isn’t necessarily a bad thing. We need things to break down in order to make room for change, right?”
I look around at a sea of slightly confused faces. I get it. These are dense topics to teach and to learn, but so far, everyone’s doing really well.
I think I’d be a shitty professor if they weren’t. I always hated the ones in school who would announce things like ‘nobody in my class gets an A . ’ Learning should be challenging, yes, but students shouldn’t have to sacrifice their sleep or their sanity to get a good grade.
I check the clock. We’ve only got about five minutes left and I’ve got to submit my scholarship application tonight, which means that I’m going to need all the caffeine I can get. My plan was to head over to Déjà Brew to do some last minute revisions and enjoy a little oat milk latte while I work.
Roman gave me his old Keurig machine, but I ran out of pods for it, only to find out the horrifying truth of how expensive they are, so the coffee shop has been my new sanctuary lately.
“Good work today, everyone! We’ll dive deeper into Durkheim next week. Go and be free!”
As my students make their way out and I scoop up the last of my things, I notice an obnoxious buzz from my phone, and pluck it out of my bag.
KAT
Did you get the invite?
I frown.
ME
What invite?
KAT
Check Facebook. I can’t believe this shit.
At first I think she’s talking about her husband Marcus, but if they were fighting, it wouldn’t be on Facebook. That and she would have sent me the evidence to analyze: screenshots, memes, voice memos, you name it.
Kat and Marcus hooked up the same night Logan and I did, but it turned out a lot better for them. They work as realtors in Blackburn Falls and have a little boy named Dylan who’s just turned two. Kat got the life that I wanted— deep down, at least. Yes, I want a career in research and teaching. Yes, I want to write articles and change the game, but I also want a family.
All of these things feel so far out of reach right now.
I don’t even know if I’m going to stay in Emerald Bay.
I haul my bag over my shoulder and head out of the classroom, starting my little Facebook investigation as I walk.
I haven’t logged on in about half a year, so I have to sort through a bunch of notifications before I find the one that stops me in my tracks.
EVENT: Blackburn High 10 Year Reunion
WHEN: June 20, 2024
WHERE: Reynold’s Vineyard
HOST: Carly Howard
It takes me a moment to even recognize her. Her hair is lighter, her face looking so different than it did in high school, but it’s her last name that catches me off guard. Howard. As in Brendan Howard. As in Brendan and Carly got married. Just married, by the looks of it.
There are dozens of wedding pictures, all from about three months ago. I keep swiping, madly flipping through photo after photo as a thick knot of jealousy begins to grow in my gut. I nearly drop my phone when I see a picture of Carly holding a baby.
Connor Burlington Howard, born February 14, 2021. Our Valentine.
I think I’m going to be sick.
He’s three. Brendan left me three years ago. That means…
I feel myself start to spiral, furiously swiping and swiping as it all sinks in. I sift through three years of pictures. A trip to Italy, to France, and their honeymoon in Australia.
KAT
Did you see?
Shit, I got so caught up in all of this, I forgot I was texting her.
ME
Yeah. I saw.
KAT
You have to go.
My eyes are blurry with tears. I’d have respected him more if he told me he was fucking my high school bully behind my back.
ME
Why the fuck did they invite me?
KAT
Probably to show off the fact that Carly’s really good at spending her parent’s money.
I can’t help but let out a little snort of laughter, even as the tears run down my cheeks.
KAT
Fuck that bitch, but FUCK HIM especially. Not in the sexy way. Like with a giant lego dildo covered in hot sauce.
If there’s one thing Kat’s incredible at, it’s making me laugh at my lowest moments. Since I moved away from our hometown, our relationship has turned into almost daily text messages, video calls, and the traditional swapping of memes. It’s hard being so far away from her, but whenever we talk, it’s like no time has passed.
ME
Why would I want to see either of them?
Carly tortured me in high school— all because she couldn’t have Brendan. He asked me to the school dance instead of her. After that, she made my life a living hell until graduation. Years of torment.
Turns out all she had to do was be patient, and count on the fact that Brendan Howard always takes the easy way out.
KAT
Come on! Reunions are all about reconnecting with people and showing them up after high school! You’ve got a big fancy professor job and a boyfriend. Show up at Reynolds Vineyard and shove that shit in their faces!
Shit. I forgot that I sort of … well, lied. It was after I got the news about my contract being up. Kat was asking me how life was going and I didn’t want it to be a pity-party, so I came up with the best possible version of things I could think of. Pretty sure I even said I was making like 80 grand a year, which is pretty depressing when you consider that was my highest hopes.
I should never text someone after I smoke a joint.
ME
I don’t know.
KAT
Come on! We haven’t seen you in so long, and Dylan misses his Auntie A. You’ve got to have PTO or something, right?
I groan as the elevator doors open to the ground floor and I head toward Déjà Brew, following the path through beautiful towering cedar trees. I’m alternating between trying not to trip on fallen branches, and texting madly.
ME
You can’t use your child as a bargaining chip.
KAT
I can do whatever I want! See?
She proceeds to send me six pictures of Dylan and I at the park last summer, wearing matching sunglasses and eating ice cream. He’s so fucking cute, with his chubby little cheeks and his curly dark hair. He looks so much like his mom.
ME
This is manipulative.
KAT
But is it working? Look at how much that baby loves you!
I sigh.
ME
I’ll think about it, okay?
KAT
Okay! Just let me know! I’m sure your mom would love to see you, too! We could celebrate your big promotion!
I slide my phone into my pocket as I approach the coffee shop. I can’t think about that fucking reunion anymore, I have to get this scholarship submitted and save my job.
I get up to the counter and order an extra hot vanilla oat milk latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon and nutmeg on top. It’s the closest I can get to fall right now, so I’ll take it. I manage to find a quiet seat near the back of the café and pull out my laptop, but I only make it 5 minutes before I find myself on Facebook again.
I scan the invite, looking for clues that couldn’t possibly be there. Why did she invite me? Was it a sense of obligation? The chance to show off the fact that she got what she always wanted? No explanation is going to be good enough, not after what the two of them did, but a part of me still wants to hear it directly from the horse’s mouth.
I start clicking through all of the people who said they’d attend the reunion. They’re lawyers, entrepreneurs, teachers… most of them have really beautiful families.
I know it’s social media and I’m comparing my own current mess of a life to everyone’s highlight reels, but I can’t help but feel like I’m falling behind. I live in a shitty one bedroom apartment with two pet rats; I’m probably going to lose the best job I’ve ever had and have to move back to Blackburn Falls with my tail between my legs.
My stomach twists, the cursor hovering over the giant blue ATTEND button.
“Abi, you look like you’re going to throw up.”
A familiar voice comes crashing down, nearly making me jump as I find Piper Morgan standing over me. She’s sipping an iced latte, dressed in a pale purple tank top and a pair of jeans. Her dark hair is pulled back into a big messy bun, with a few stray pieces framing an audacious pair of heart-shaped sunglasses.
When Piper and Imogen arrived at EBU, the three of us just clicked. We have drinks together, go on shopping trips, and complain about anything and everything related to academia.
“I’m okay.”
How long has she been standing there?
“You sure?” She asks. “I’ve been watching you for a couple minutes and it looks like you’ve gone through all five stages of grief in rapid succession.”
“You’ve been watching me?”
“Well, I was worried,” Piper replies, gesturing to the empty chair in front of her. “I assume I can sit down?”
“Fill your boots.”
“That’s a weird expression,” she chuckles.
“Yeah, it’s something my mom used to say. I guess it sorta stuck.”
She pauses for a moment, her eyes newly-fixed on my laptop.
“So what’s going on? Are you fighting on the internet again, some dude bothering you or something?”
I rub my face and let out a groan.
“If only my day were that good. I got invited to my ten-year reunion.”
“Aren’t you like 26?”
“I graduated early.”
“Ah,” Piper replies. “I guess you and Logan have another thing in common.”
I flash her what I hope is a confident smile, but she only tilts her head, looking more worried than before.
“So, what’s wrong with the high school reunion?”
“Well, for one, I got bullied, like… the entire time. I was a huge loser who spent more time in the library playing Dungeons and Dragons than trying to be cool. Anyway, a couple months ago I sort of told my friend Kat that I have a boyfriend, and tenure… and that I make 80 grand a year.”
Even saying the last part makes me wince.
“You Romy and Michele’d yourself.”
“What?”
“You never saw that movie?” She laughs.
“No, I did, but?—”
“They said they invented Post-Its.”
“Okay, right but,” I wave my hands in front of my face. “This isn’t quite like that. I mean it’s…”
Piper snorts.
“Pretty similar, actually?”
I shrug, sighting deeply.
“The real problem is that it’s being hosted by my ex’s new wife.”
Piper gasps.
“The dickhead who dumped you after the two of you got engaged?”
I nod, taking a big sip of coffee. I’ve told Piper and Imogen this story before, over too many glasses of shitty sangria at The Hi-Dive. It’s nice to have someone to confide in other than Logan. I love the guy, but he can barely keep a secret.
“Assclown!” Piper hisses. “And he seriously got married?”
“Yeah. Has a kid too.” I pull up Carly’s profile and show her the picture. “The baby’s about three.”
Piper’s jaw practically hits the table, and she yanks the laptop toward her, scrutinizing every single detail. I watch her eyes bounce around as she clicks away; I almost tell her not to type anything, but she’s on her best behavior, keeping her finger on the track pad the entire time, her eyes still wide in shock.
After about a minute, she slides it back over to me.
“Well, you have to go.”
I raise a brow, staring at her in total disbelief.
“What?”
“You have to go!” Piper laughs. “Show them both up. Lean into the lie.”
“I think you’re supposed to be talking me out of this,” I grumble.
“No, think about it!” Piper leans forward, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Who’s going to know you’re lying?”
“The faculty section on the EBU website is a pretty good clue,” I groan.
It’s got our dorkiest pictures, our most recent publications, and the department we teach in along with our positions. It’s a dead giveaway I’m not a real professor if someone googles me.
Piper rolls her eyes.
“You’re gonna let that stop you? The EBU website looks like it was designed by a blind chimp who just learned how to use clip art, okay? It’s terrible.”
“Okay, but my LinkedIn says?—”
“Fuck your LinkedIn! Just lie !” I can see the gears spinning in her head as she sips her coffee. “Look, a sane person would tell you not to go, but a woman bent on vengeance would tell you to Romy-and-Michele that shit! Just, you know… be more careful about it. Don’t say you invented something that’s easily Googleable.”
She pauses.
“Is that a word?”
“These days? Probably,” I sigh, staring at her with disbelief. “You really think I should do this?”
“What better way to get closure than to bring a hot guy to your reunion, and rub it in your ex’s face!”
“Hot guy?” I laugh. “Don’t know any.”
Piper’s eyes narrow, and before she even utters another word, I know exactly what’s going to come out of her mouth.
“No.” I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on! It’s all fake, and you two are super close! It would be easy to fool anyone— and besides, he’s totally into you.”
I roll my eyes. It’s been a running joke amongst our group of friends. Except for Frankie. After what happened with Roman and Imogen, we’ve been very careful not to make those kinds of comments around him. I don’t need him getting an embolism.
“I’m not asking Logan to be my fake boyfriend just to get back at my ex.”
“Why not?” She shrugs. “You’re too nice, Abi, you gotta stick it to that dickhead, make him realize how much he fucked up! Logan’s cute, he’s charming, he’s pretty famous in academic circles, and… Oh, doesn’t he do magic tricks?”
“You sound like you want to date him,” I laugh.
“Nah, he’s cute, but he’s not my type.” She grins. “But he’s yours… and I see the way you look at each otherrrrr!”
There’s only so many times I can object before I have to accept that it’s futile.
“Look, I know there’s lots of rules and stuff so you guys can’t date, but you can fake date for one night, can’t you?”
My eyes flick back down to my laptop. The idea is tempting, and she’s right… Who would find out? Logan and I post pictures of each other all the time on Instagram. We’re always together, and it’s not that big of a leap given how we started.
The problem isn’t that I think he’d say no.
The problem is I know he’d agree.
And that’s the part that makes me nervous.